


close my eyes (whenever i can)

by kookwells



Series: very much like the moon [2]
Category: K-pop
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Yoongi is mentioned, cake and kisses and softness, set between yg&jk's first meeting and hoseok's party in vmltm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 18:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16560716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kookwells/pseuds/kookwells
Summary: “you bought me flowers yesterday,” joohyun says.





	close my eyes (whenever i can)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [777335](https://archiveofourown.org/users/777335/gifts), [ggoyeobb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggoyeobb/gifts).



> for sarah and zey, who have been so unfailingly kind about the ladies in vmltm and just in general. love you both. this is very short but i hope it is soft enough.
> 
> title is from ‘through the night’ by iu because it’s the only love song ever. 
> 
> (if you haven't read 'very much like the moon', this should still make sense.)

suran closes the mail app as soon as she hears a key in the door and replaces it with her software, still exporting the commission she finished earlier. her heart’s beating an odd rhythm - the word ‘ _ **ready**_ ’ in italic script has imprinted itself onto her eyelids by now but her brain can’t seem to process the reality of it.

 _god_. it’s ready, and joohyun is home and she promised herself she would do it on a sunday, their going out day, and today is saturday. it’s almost midnight on a saturday and suran is going to have to do it tomorrow because it’s ready and she has learned during the trials and tribulations of adult life that the best way to keep a promise to do something is by doing it as soon as possible. she has to take a moment to breathe before she turns around, has no idea what her face looks like but hopes for the best.

“unnie, i brought cake.” 

suran turns around and nearly loses an eye to the corner of a familiar square, pale mint box. she pushes it down slightly with one finger so she can see the top - silvery letters, the english word _powder_ \- and then finally looks up at joohyun.

“baby -”

“i couldn’t get the choux ‘cause it was closing but they still had fruit tarts so i got you one’a those, or you can have the omelette if you want it. i don’t mind.”

suran knows joohyun would much rather the strawberry omelette bread, and smiles at her. the bakery is suran’s favourite. it isn’t even on the way home from the bar. “fruit tart sounds good. thank you. what’s the occasion?”

“you bought me flowers yesterday,” joohyun says, low, and suran feels the warmth of joohyun’s mouth at her own temple, the plush drag of her lips. they’d started ripe cranberry red when she’d left to meet yoongi at the metro but it’s mostly faded now; suran can feel the slight tackiness of the balm joohyun always switches to after the first few drinks wipes away the colour.

“it wasn’t so you would buy me something else,” suran huffs, tipping her head forward against joohyun’s shoulder. the leather of her jacket is buttery soft. it smells like yoongi’s citrusy cologne which makes sense, because it definitely doesn’t belong to joohyun. “i just went by the market after i dropped off that piece. you didn’t have to get anything.”

“wanted to. are you done?” 

suran pushes her glasses up her nose and glances back just in time to see the saving bar disappear. “almost.” she checks the last save against the digital clock and then exits out of the program. “okay, done.”

“scoot back a little,” joohyun says, then after suran does she drops right onto her lap. suran oofs because although joohyun is petite and really isn’t heavy, she’s not completely sober.

suran slips one arm around her waist to support her and with her free hand she smoothes joohyun’s tawny hair away from her face. joohyun nudges her cheek into suran’s palm, then rests it there. they watch each other for a moment. joohyun’s dark, serious eyes are kohl smudged and they track across suran’s features like she’s reading the five hours they’ve been apart that way. her high lace collar sits against her throat, pure white on petal blush. the delicate red ribbon looped at the front is the same colour as her lipstick was and the crystals in her earrings are and as the blooming flush in her cheeks. she looks like she’s escaped from a castle garden somewhere far away from the dusty october greyness of seoul.

“hi, princess."

joohyun sighs. “unnie.”

“imperial lady?”

“ _unnie_.”

suran tamps down on a grin. “yes, darling? sweetheart? love of my life?”

joohyun ignores her; leans in and knocks their foreheads together gently. “i’m gonna kiss you so be quiet.”

suran tips her head up for it, keeps her mouth closed because she’s been drinking coffee all evening, but joohyun licks straight into her mouth and sighs again. it’s a different kind of sigh this time. slower. it’s the same kind of sigh as when she warms down from yoga or when she’s curled in her armchair petting baechu’s velveteen ears, which makes suran smile and joohyun hum in response.

she pulls away a bit to ask “what?” against the turned up corner of suran’s lips, and suran can feel the word before she registers it. 

“you taste like gum.”

“you hate whiskey,” says joohyun, like it’s obvious.

“you don’t like gum.” suran feels a bubbling heat in her tummy. since joohyun first slipped quietly and earnestly into her life, she’s gotten used to getting turned on by totally average, everyday things. by little genuine kindnesses, mostly, although those turn her heart on more than anything. joohyun anticipates her constantly, never lets her get away with anything but is always happy to meet her in the middle.

 _tomorrow. i’ll do it tomorrow_ , she thinks, and feels pleasantly off kilter at the thought of breakfast with the others, yoongi pouting through it all in sunglasses probably given what joohyun has been drinking, hoseok and namjoon giving her matching omniscient smiles over pancakes. joohyun in one of her thickest sweaters and no makeup, dark circles from the whiskey and a late night, the most heart-stilling thing suran has ever seen in daffodil sunlight. the sunday market, then an appointment later on - the email she can’t let joohyun see just yet.

“i do,” joohyun presses a kiss to her cheekbone and then slips off her lap, runs a hand through her own hair and gathers it into a ponytail. suran passes her an elastic by rote from the stash around her pencils. “i’m gonna put pajamas on. meet you in the den?”

“i’ll bring cakes.”

“i’ll bring baby chu.” 

by den joohyun means the living room, which they are already in, but joohyun is good at compartmentalising the small space they have. the desk is suran going to work, the kettle and rice cooker and hob along from it is the kitchen, and the faded cornflower blue sofa and misshapen, overstuffed floral armchair are the den that circles the dining table, which is a tiny wrought iron, glass surfaced coffee table suran was given by a client. joohyun has a window garden and a fold out table beneath it that’s hers for watercolour days and suran’s for commission deadlines, and baechu’s after bathtime. they’re very imaginative when they need to be.

suran shuts her laptop and stretches her legs far enough that she feels her left knee click. she does a quick runthrough of her wrist exercises, knowing joohyun will somehow be able to tell if she forgets to do it before bed because she’s _actually_ psychic, and then hops up to fill two glasses of water and has to double back to hook her meds out of the mess behind her computer.

when joohyun returns she’s soft and pale and particularly tiny in a pair of suran’s old pajamas, moss green plaid and very worn around the lapels. she has her bunny cradled in her arms and she’s murmuring to him. it’s such a juxtaposition to outside-joohyun. after years together suran still feels like she needs to move slower, speak quieter in the presence of it, just in case she shocks joohyun out of that vulnerability. she’s beautiful every way, every minute, but this is one of suran’s favourite joohyuns.

“bunny ready. cake?”

“ready.”

“ears open for gossip?”

“literally always,” suran nods, mock serious, then gestures at the armchair with the box. “take a seat, sweetheart. i’ll pass you your treasure.”

“please don’t watch me eat this,” joohyun warns, “i’m too tired t’ start anything.”

suran grins at her. “but i want to see you get all messy.”

“unnie,” she huffs, settling baechu into the cradle of her knees and lap. suran passes her the box and then sprawls across the sofa with her fruit tart. “we’ll flirt tomorrow. right now i wanna eat cake and laugh really kindly at yoongi.”

“sorry,” suran stretches her legs out, still grinning. she loves yoongi. loves how happy he makes joohyun. “was it a dog or a boy?”

“boy,” the word is muffled by joohyun’s sleepy-strong accent and a mouthful of cream cake. she holds up one finger and covers her mouth with her other hand, then sounds suddenly clearer as she repeats, “a boy. can you believe it? think they had a meet-cute but yoongi won’t admit it." 

suran makes a face behind her tart to convey exactly what she thinks of that.

“i _know_ ,” joohyun says, too loud. baechu digs himself deeper into her sweater and flops bonelessly against the wool covering her stomach, which is about how suran is feeling as well. the thought of yoongi, kind and shy and endlessly playing it cool to protect his own heart, having a meet-cute -- well.

“no pun intended but that’s the cutest thing i’ve ever heard. i might be sick.”

“it gets worse,” joohyun licks cream off the decorative strawberry and holds it above baechu’s twitching nose. “namjoon _and_ hoseok know meet-cute boy.”

“ _no_.”

“ _yes_ ,” joohyun replies with great relish, and baechu chomps at the strawberry, tiny teeth, tiny nose, tiny body quivering with excitement. “sorry chu-ssi, here.” she relinquishes the fruit to him and he props it on her knee to eat it, and suran’s chest goes the good kind of tight like it always does around the two of them.

 _tomorrow_.

she thinks joohyun will cry because she only cries when she’s perfectly overwhelmed. suran hopes so. then maybe noraebang, and they can sing something especially cheesy and marvel at the way the rainbow lights facet and catch from their hands, how the others will yell and whistle at them. then suran will kiss her against the doorframe when they’re home again, and they’ll put baechu to bed and shut the bedroom door until tuesday.

“don’t you just have cake and cream left now?” she says, a delayed distraction. she’s almost finished her own cake lost in thought. joohyun smiles in the marbled cherubic way she has that always tends to convince other people of her naivety, mostly because she’s beautiful. suran exhales with sharp amusement - that smile is never an accident. “okay. yoongi told them about him? he must like him.”

“he spent ten minutes describing this guy’s waist ‘til he realised he was speaking out loud, and then he started talking about his _gentle aura_.”

“i’m going to call yoongi right now and tell him his pisces sun is showing.”

joohyun starts laughing. “he was so drunk when joon and seok picked him up he called joon ‘hyung’ because, i quote, ‘hyungs are taller’.”

“oh no,” suran’s grin is starting to hurt her cheeks. she feels like someone’s shaken her up and that she might overflow, syrup fizzy.

“my hand is stuck in holding position now.”

“i’m sure i can help with that.”

joohyun swallows the last bite of her cake. “legs.”

suran lifts her legs straight up in the air, which makes joohyun grin as she scoops a drowsy, strawberry-filled baechu up very carefully, stands, and then tucks him back into the warm space she’s left on the squashy seat. she pulls one of the blankets from the back of the chair and snugs it around him like a baby, strokes across his nose, his round cheek, one of his long ears. she crosses the room to wiggle under suran’s legs and then rolls her forward so she can tuck herself in against suran’s back.

“why do you do this every time?” suran mutters through the honey heaviness in her throat, the weightlessness of her extremities.

“‘cause i know you like being manhandled.”

“ladyhandled,” they both say at the same time, suran with a smirk and joohyun sounding grudgingly amused. “i got it,” joohyun says, then links their fingers together over the swell of suran’s hip. she kisses suran’s shoulder blade because they’ve aligned their feet and she can’t reach up any further. “your hands are shaky. d’your joints lock up again?”

“no,” suran says, and breathes out. in, the smell of the bar in joohyun’s hair and her soft jasmine perfume, and when she raises their hands to her lips to kiss joohyun’s starry knuckles, the cloying sweetness of whipped cream. out. “sugar rush, i think.”

 _tomorrow_. she'll do it tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> ‘party at hobi-hyung’s’ was their engagement party…. and they lived happily ever after (with baechu, of course).


End file.
